


The Simple Approach

by Snyuuk



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, High School Drama Super Fun Times, non-sburb AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-15
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-01 23:35:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snyuuk/pseuds/Snyuuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you think it's not so bad that the guy you're in love with is in homo with another dude. If anything, it makes for interesting day-to-day Pesterchum conversations. </p><p>But sometimes it's the most painful thing in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Shit, son, I finally figured out how to code this thing. It took a couple of tries, and you might have seen this without Roxy's pretty bubblegum pink for a few seconds, but all is well now!

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TT: Plan A is a no go, apparently.   
TG: whaaaatt??  
TG: dont tell me youre gettin cold feet now of all times  
TG: u already bulit the thing and now youre just gonna back out like a pussy??  
TT: I'm not getting cold feet, it's not my choice. Apparently one of the teachers found out about my, now aborted, plans and informed the principle. He told me that while he knows that "kids" can get out of hand with their over-the-top prom pursuits, mine was particularly "overtly obnoxious and disruptive."   
TG: hmmmmmmmm..............................  
TG: sounds like mr stickuphisass is a homophobe to me   
TT: He seems rather tolerant with the other same-sex couples that have been somewhat over the radar with their prom preparations.   
TG: idk distri this all sounds rather..........  
TG: SUSPCIOS to me  
TG: *caps the f out for empahsis  
TG: me thinkies youd be hearin something else if u were going after a chickadee   
TT: I sincerely doubt that's the problem here.  
TT: I think the most suspicious element of this situation is how a teacher found out in the first place.  
TT: It's not as if I go around broadcasting my romantic pursuits by wearing a washboard and ringing a bell. TT: I'm not my bro.   
TG: omfg ur bro  
TG: lmfaooooooooooo   
TT: I can't tell if this is you trying to change the subject or not.   
TG: woah woah  
TG: woah  
TG: wooooooooooooah  
TG: whatr u tryin to imply here strider??  
TT: I'm just trying to get to the bottom of all this, Rox. I'm not angry, just a bit exasperated that about three weeks of work has officially gone down the drain.  
TG: well it wasnt me  
TG: i know this may come as a shock to u  
TG: but i got a life outside of ur love life  
TG: i am capable of thinkin up other means of conversation w ppl other than u fyi   
TT: All right, if you say so.  
TG: woah what  
TG: realy??   
TT: If you say it wasn't you, it wasn't you.  
TT: I am capable of trust, Roxy. And if you're telling me it wasn't you who spilled my plans, I believe you.  
TT: Besides, even if you had, it's hard to believe that teachers would concern themselves with high school gossip.  
TT: And either way, it still looks like I'm back to square one.  
TG: hmmmm... well im glad u think so  
TG: but my eyebrow is all wiggly w suspsion n e way  
TG: and dont u have a plan b???   
TT: I didn't think I would need a Plan B.   
TG: ohohohohoh  
TG: sounds to me mr strider if u thnik u can get into englishs panties that easily u dont even need all this robotic confetti bs  
TG: ;) ;) ;0;)   
TT: It wasn't a matter of confidence. I had one plan of action and either he would have accepted or declined. TT: You don't need a Plan B for a one-answer result.  
TT: I thought you said the confetti bullshit was a nice touch.   
TG: u gotta pick ur audience w this kinda thing dirky  
TG: liek ok say u were wantin to ask out janey how would u do it???  
TT: Well, if we're talking about Jane...   
TG: no shhhh!  
TG: ur wrong  
TG: im here to tell u what u SHOULD do not sit around waitng for u to give me the fuckin blutprints for a new cakebot or wtf ever   
TT: Alright, fine. I'm listening.  
TG: if u wanna ask out janey ud have to be all sweet w her and bake her some kidna cake or brownies or chocolate   
TT: I'm not sure how you bake chocolate, but continue. I think I'm starting to see the beginning of a point forming.   
TG: if u wanna ask out ms rolals grade a lions u gotta do all that confetti bs complete with a side of parades n shit  
TG: *loins omg not lions lololol   
TT: And for Jake?  
TT: I assume that's what you're getting at.   
TG: u cant bring guns to school but jakeys a simple boy  
TG: y not just idk  
TG: ASK HIM??????????????  
TG: its called the simple approach  
TG: and its not like hes a girl u know  
TT: I'm aware he's not a girl.  
TT: I did think, however, regardless of gender, he may have appreciated the gesture. I mean, it's a pretty goddamn grand gesture. It's not like you could miss the fucking meaning.   
TG: u know what else gets across the message that u wanna make gay babbies w him???  
TG: TELLIN HIM  
TG: dirky i think u spewin out ur homofeelings for jakey is more of a gesture than ur robobic thingymawhoos   
TT: I can't say I'm all that convinced.   
TG: listen to rolala!!!  
TG: im so wise and full of this kinda knowlegde u should be payin me for all this qualty advising  
TT: The most I will say about this proposition is that I will think about it. I may not have a choice with prom coming up so soon, anyway.   
TG: u better think fast then   
TT: I have some things to do, I'll try and catch you later if I think of anything.  
TT: Try not to drink your mom's entire collection of liquor while I'm gone.   
TG: no promsesss  
TG: ttyl distri

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TT: Okay, but what would I say?  
TG: omg dirk  
TG: dirkyyy  
TG: dirk dirkd irkd dirkkkkk  
TT: What?   
TG: ur such a cutie :3

timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TG: hehehehehe

 

Your name is Roxy Lalonde, and sometimes you think it's not so bad that the guy you love is in homo for another dude. At the very least, it creates interesting discussions over pesterchum when you would otherwise be drinking yourself silly as a way to focus on your homework. Also, no, you don't need judgment from outside observers because that last sentence totally made sense.

Also, you're pretty sure you get to spend more time with him than anyone else. You guess that makes it all right that your best friend isn't 100% interested in your grade-A lions.

It's a nice routine you have, and it's the same one that's been going since freshman year. Three years later you still find yourself walking to classes with him, and your shoulder will nudge into his side hard enough to knock any other person into the lockers and cause a domino effect all the way down the hall. He's sturdy, though, and you like that. You sit behind him in math class and flick things into his perfectly sculpted hair, and you run to tackle him, hoping to surprise or knock him over, when he gets out of history class (your English class is right down the hall, and it's easy to spot him). You never do.

Sometimes he'll smirk at your ridiculous attempts to knock him over. Other days he'll exhale a little heavier than usual and roll his eyes; an action you can barely recognize through his ridiculous shades. Some days he won't even humor you, and when you run to tackle him you don't even realize he's moved until you're tripping and crashing into a row of lockers. You'll curse him and he won't apologize, but the slight crease that forms in his eyebrows, that aren't quite hidden by his shades, tells you he wants to. He'll usually buy you your customary sundae after school, too.

You can't help but poke fun at him, nudge him, tackle him, and maybe sometimes pet his cheek? You like to consider yourself a Strider-specialized meteorologist and his different reactions will mark the tone of the day. If yesterday was calm with an overly slight chance of smug satisfaction, today is overcast with a 90% chance that he's already being an unresponsive dick.

You feel yourself slouch when your rambles go unheard, but you decide to leave it alone for now. It's almost as if you can hear the gears spinning frantically in his head; their mission solely focused on how to compute words that reflect his "true feelings" or some shit like that.

Lunch isn't much better, but at least it's spent in the company of all your favorite people. You try not to look at his barely-solemn features (nearly invisible to the naked eye), and feel laughter bubble out of you as you hold a conversation with Jane and Jake. Janey even brings some homemade treats, not all that rare of an occurrence, and it helps soften the blow your gut takes with each bite of the cafeteria's so-called "lasagna." It doesn't stop Jake eating it with gusto, his stomach made of steel and his appetite as fierce as a bear. He talks with food in his mouth and with very little regard for human etiquette. It's okay because it makes Jane giggle to see how enthusiastic he is, and you let out a hardly modest belch in response. Jake laughs at that.

Dirk doesn't, but not out of disgust for your lack of socially improper behavior.

And sometimes you think maybe it really totally blows that the guy you love is in homo with another dude, because his eyebrows do that thing where you can tell he's trying not to smile, but there's so much fondness and affection in that one little _stare_.

And it's not directed at you.

So you pretend not to notice.

 

TG: okokok lemme get this straight  
TG: ur plan was to ask jake 2 prom in the most fantastical unicroncrapping way  
TG: go to prom  
TG: get a liiiiiiiitle bit tispy  
TG: do some funky bzns w jungle boy  
TG: become bfs  
TG: and u never ever ever thought of what u might even say to him????????  
TT: Like I stated previously, I was expecting my own actions to speak louder than my words.  
TT: There was that much confetti, Rox.  
TG: yeah yeah yeah but i mean cmon  
TG: what if u got the ok from professor homofobe and u exceuted ur super mega plan perfectly and he goes  
TG: "omg dirk does this mean u like me in a totes nonhetero way???"  
TG: what were u gonna say????  
TT: I would've assumed the question to be rhetorical and would have given him a moment to collect himself from the painfully oblivious comment he just asked.  
TT: I think if I had executed my plan perfectly that is only the reasonable thing to assume.  
TG: ughhhh  
TG: so u got nothin at all?  
TT: Would I be asking for your help if I did?  
TT: You are going to help me, right?  
TT: Hello?  
TT: Roxy?  
TG: ksdjfhksdf  
TG: shitshtishit i think moms home early gotta hide this liqur brbrbrbrb

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

You realize that perhaps you don't always handle your overly hormonal emotions in a proper manner, but whatever. Dirk can deal. Besides, you know he has his own one-sided romantic crap that he has to deal with, too.

You're sure he understands.

\--------------

Today is the best fucking day ever. You know this for a fact because in your glittering pink wallet you have one fully-punched Cone Card that is rearing up to give you that free lusciously, delicious, sugary confection (aka the incarnation of all perfection itself) in the form of an ice cream sundae.

Your favorite routine that you have fallen into over these last three years, when you discovered that your route home and Dirk's route home overlapped for fourteen glorious minutes, is frequenting the little ice cream place on the side of the road. They know you by name and they smile at you two when you walk up to the counter and order your usual. Your strawberry-chocolate-vanilla sundae loaded with peanuts, fudge sauce, raspberry sauce, whipped cream, and extra cherries. While Dirk sits with his modest cup of vanilla smothered in caramel sauce, he pokes at you for thinking you'd even be able to finish the monstrosity that is your usual order, because you never do finish it, but someday you will (and that will be the day Mr. Strider eats his words like a totally less delicious sugary treat). You tease him back that it's his own fault for not letting you order the strawberry shake, but his eyes harden as if he's using some kind of robotic x-ray vision he programmed in his glasses to focus in on the bejeweled flask you keep hidden in your purse.

You laugh when he does that, but he usually tries to change the subject, and you wonder if it's because he knows you're completely hopeless and the matter isn't worth dwelling on, or because you're really worth the worry you sometimes think he might give you.

Sometimes you get your hopes up too much, though, and you curse yourself for it. Regardless, you know that tonight you may just tell Dirk on the walk there that their strawberry shakes are the most delicious thing in the world and completely worthy of your fully punched Cone Card prize.

You saunter out of your class and head down the hall, in the midst of the overwhelming wave of students you've learned to keep pace with, to see Dirk lingering in front of your locker.

You glance at your phone to check the time to see that, no, it really is 3:00. You wonder if Jake went home sick today, because usually you don't even think about leaving until 3:30, waiting behind for Dirk to talk with a certain jungle boy before Jake heads to soccer practice at 3:35. You're pretty sure you saw him in biology today, though, so you wonder what the occasion is. Perhaps it truly is the best fucking day ever.

"I'm going to ask him today." And just like that your appetite is gone.

"Oh yeah? Did you figure out everything you're going to say?" You smile as you shoo him away from your locker to enter the combination on the lock. He lets out a small snort, his arms still crossed and his face still frozen in place.

"Yeah, no thanks to you."

"You can't expect me to help you with this kind of thing when I want you all to myself." You give him a wink and he rolls his eyes.

"Easy on the booze, Lalonde. We're still in school, you know." Oh, you didn't mean to slam your locker open that hard.

"Well, what're you standing around here for? Go get that nice English booty."

"Just letting you know. Might be a bit late, if you wanted to just go ahead and head on out without me." You feel yourself nod, though you're pretty sure the action didn't completely process in your head. You regain your consciousness that slipped away from you for a moment to jab him in the stomach with your elbow.

"So, whatchya gonna say?"

"I just figured I'd be straight forward about it. "I like you, will you go to prom with me?" seems like it'd be adequate enough." He gives you a shrug and you scrunch your nose up.

"Catch me, I'm swooning!"

"It's the simple approach, like you recommended. So don't go giving me crap for something you didn't even help me with."

"All right, all right. Well, get on with it then." You say flicking your hands at him to gesture him away. His jaw hardens and he nods before taking a hesitant (maybe?) step away from you. But his arms are still crossed, and he keeps fixing his shades on his nose, and it's so subtle, because it's so _Dirk,_ and you realize just how nervous he really is.

And before you know it, you're reaching up to clamp down on his shoulder, the warmth of his skin seeping through his t-shirt, and you give him your best smile. You try to make it reassuring, but you can't let him know how much you can see through him, because only someone who watches him that closely--that obsessively--would ever know.

"You know he's gonna say yes, right?" He doesn't respond, instead he turns a bit to stare down at you. "And what're you going to do when he does, huh? Just stand there like an oaf and go "oh okay, that's cool, bro" like you're the most awkwardly adorbs piece of flesh on the planet?"

"Well..." He really looks like he's trying to google search the answer in his brain, except with something way more legitimate than google like one of those scholarly search sites that could give him an academic article on the nuances of telling that one guy how you may kind of really like him in a non-no homo way.

But before he can click the search button you've already fished your wallet out of your purse and handed him the Cone Card, fully punched and ready to be exchanged for a free frozen treat. He gives you a look.

"Tell him to blow off practice so you can treat him to something nice, maybe buy him something pretty afterwards."

"Rox, it's okay."

"Take it, gay-stri. Consider it my engagement present." You wiggle your eyebrows at him. "You can always treat me to a monster sundae later, okay?"

He stares at you for a minute, and you get it. What you were looking for. That kind-of smile and an unclenched jaw. You can feel his nervousness almost sinking away as he takes the card from you and gives you another nod before walking down the hall.

Sometimes you think you do these things to yourself on purpose.

But then you remember you weren't really in the mood for ice cream, anyway.

 

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began bothering gutsyGumshoe [GG]

TG: ok on a scale of 1 to flaming lesbo  
TG: how much do u wanna go to prom with me??  
TG: *wink wink wik  
GG: Oh my, Ms. Lalonde, it appears you've seen right through me!  
GG: My one true desire all along was to go to prom with you!  
GG: And I must say, being asked over pesterchum truly adds to the romance of the proposal!  
GG: Hoo hoo :B  
TG: loloolo  
TG: ok but like sersiouyl  
TG: *seriously  
TG: *srs face  
TG: since it looks like the boys r gonna be all preoccupied n such  
TG: u wanna go on like a no homo friend date w me?  
TG: i can shw u a reeeeal gud time ;)  
TG: *show  
GG: Uh?  
GG: What do you mean preoccupied?  
GG: I thought Dirk would be accompanying you for prom?  
TG: noooooooooooope  
TG: hes all up and ready to ask one mr english  
TG: which i think i can tell u bc 1 youre not english  
TG: 2 oure not a teacher  
TG: 3 half the school woulda known anyway if dirk couldve gone w his super mega ultra plan or w/e  
GG: Oh.  
GG: Oh dear.  
GG: I have to say this is just a tad bit awkward, then.  
TG: ????///  
GG: Well, I was going to tell you after school today but you had already left.  
GG: But I might have already asked Jake to prom?  
GG: And, well, he said yes!  
TG: omfg rly????  
TG; janey sdkfjhskdf  
TG: when was this???  
GG: I asked him right after lunch.  
GG: I would have told you, but I guess I was too nervous to talk about it?  
GG: As if I had all my courage would have drained from me if I said anything, or something ridiculous like that.  
GG: I did think about what you said, though! To just cut off my mind and start talking. Even if I think I may have blabbered on a little bit like a gosh darn fool.  
GG: I'm glad I did, though.  
GG: But I am probably a bit inappropriately excited about this now that I have a clearer view on the situation.  
GG: Poor Dirk. ):  
TG: omggggg  
TG: no no no nono  
TG: no janey uve got nothin to be feeling all inappropriately for  
TG: im so super totes happy for u and all but  
TG: ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh  
TG: skdjfhskdf  
TG: shit shit shit i gotta go check on dirky ill bbl  
GG: All right, Roxy. I'll talk to you later.  
GG: ):  
TG: ok no but i really am super super spper happy 4 u janey!!  
TG: no sadmotess k?  
TG: ok now bye for realz

  
tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased bothering gutsyGumshoe [GG]

  
tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

  
TT: I know.

  
Shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song alluded to later in this chapter can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K81yRpfUssY

TG: gimme like  
TG: 2 seconds k?  
TG: im gonna just stop by like circle k or somethin  
TG: im gonna buy u like so much fuckin ice cream  
TG: a fuckload of just ice cream  
TG: and caramel  
TG: n we can watch one of those bizarro foreign flicks  
TG: or even one of ur bros movies  
TG: i will watch a bro strider original just for u dirky  
TG: u wanna watch spirit???  
TG: we cn watch spirit too  
TG: than u can like tell dr rolal everything  
TG: crying is allowed  
TG: and it does not make u any less of a goregous hunky piece o manmeat  
TT: Fuck, Rox, how do you imagine this went down? He didn't reject me and then shoot my dog while simultaneously denouncing ten years of friendship.  
TT: It's really not that big of a deal.  
TG: pshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh  
TG: do u hear that di????  
TG: that is the sound of me not buyin ur big stinking pile of horseshit  
TG: tht is the sound of unbelieved horeshit  
TT: Okay, so this kind of turned out to blow a lot more than I originally thought it would.  
TT: I'll get over it.  
TT: Maybe it's better I didn't even get around to asking him, anyway. If anything, it saved a lot of unnecessary discomfort between us.  
TG: u didnt even ask him???  
TT: I didn't quite see the opening in our conversation when the first thing he said was "I'm going to prom with one lovely Ms. Crocker."  
TT: It kind of killed any opportunity.  
TG: fuuuuuuuck  
TG: r u sure ur ok?  
TT: I'll be fine, Rox.  
TT: You don't have to go blowing your life savings on ice cream from seedy convenience stores. I don't think it's come to that, yet.  
TG: idk dirk  
TG: ur takin being dumped kinda well  
TG: well dumped if u hadve asked the guy  
TG: cant say i would be as calm as u  
TT: I doubt you would be.  
TT: And it's not as if I hadn't prepared myself somewhat for this outcome.  
TT: It would have been ridiculous to assume that just because I voiced my feelings for him he would immediately reciprocate.  
TT: Also, maybe this isn't as bad as I thought it would be?  
TG: ok now uve lost me  
TG: dirky whatcha got in that nice chest of yours  
TG: a buncha wirse n shit?  
TG: *wir  
TG: *es  
TT: All I'm saying is that perhaps I built it up more in my mind.  
TT: Asking him and maybe being rejected by him, I mean.  
TT: It's not the best I've ever felt, but I ain't lookin' to throw myself off the nearest bridge.  
TT: It makes me think that maybe I started liking the idea of Jake English more than just...  
TT: Jake?  
TG: hmmmmmm.....  
TG: i c...............  
TG: *im scrathing my chin very pensively rn  
TT: Thanks for the help anyway, doc.  
TG: if u dont mind me askin  
TG: whatre u gonna do for prom thn??  
TG: ur not just gonna sit around ur apartment like a loser r u?  
TG: and just so u know ms lalnodes grade a loisn r still on the meat mraket ;)  
TT: Have you not been asked yet?  
TG: u know dirk  
TG: w as much time as we spend talking about ur boy problems  
TG: ur kinda outta touch with the haps over in rolal country  
TG: cept for the undying love i got all harbored just fr one distri  
TG: p sure ever1 knos about that tho  
TT: You could have brought it up, you know. Usually if you want to talk about something you don't hesitate to cut into whatever conversation we may be having.  
TT: But I didn't know you didn't have a date.  
TG: dirky  
TG: u gotta always assume  
TG: that i dont have a date  
TT: It's just a bit hard to believe.  
TT: Especially observing the behavior you display during parties and such.  
TG: yea well guses whos alwaaaaaays there 2 pull me away when im gettin too frisky w a yung genlteman  
TG: n those dont count as proper dates btw  
TT: I'm glad they don't.  
TT: Well it does appear as though you and I are left in a similar predicament. There is an obvious solution to this, though.  
TG: !!!  
TG: dirk r u askin me to prom??  
TG: /swoooon  
TT: You know what?  
TT: No, I'm not.  
TG: ...............................  
TG: way 3 get a girls hoeps up  
TG: ur playin w my emotions here distri  
TG: my heart can only take so much  
TT: What I mean is that I'm not going to ask you over pesterchum when you're half way to wasted.  
TT: If I'm going to ask anyone to prom, regardless if they are Jake English or not, I'm going to do it the right way.  
TT: So consider yourself dateless until further notice.  
TG: thtas what i do neway  
TG: but ok u gotta know  
TG: i wasnt joking about expectin confetti and parades n shit  
TG: u better b prepared to wow me strider  
TT: Don't underestimate me, Rox.  
TT: I have to go. Some things need fixing.  
TT: I'll talk to you later.  
TG: buhbye <3  
timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

Your heart won't stop pounding. 

\---------------------------------------

You don't sleep at all that night, and you spend the early hours of the morning overanalyzing when would be a good time to leave for school. You can't say you know when Dirk is going to ask you, you just know he is and that thought alone is enough to make your stomach flip its way into your throat and stay there for a good long while. You try and calm your nerves with a beautifully made 6:00 martini that morning, but the alcohol clashes violently with the butterflies that have nested deep in your gut. 

You dump the rest down the sink, make yourself some toast with blueberry jelly, and blame your inability to hold your drink on the early morning hours. 

You find yourself checking the clock continuously throughout the morning. What if he asks in the morning? As soon as you open the doors to the school? What is it that he's even going to do? You kind of had an idea of what his original plan to ask Jake was (something about robots and confetti), but did Dirk Strider do things the same way twice? 

It wouldn't hurt to get there a bit earlier, you supposed? It allowed a good amount of time for you to react appropriately, perhaps collect yourself before your class, and maybe squeeze in an ironic ro-to-di bro hug that maybe you kind of meant, but he didn't have to? 

Maybe he would mean it, too? Maybe this once? When he didn't feel the need to hug you because mascara would run down your cheeks, or because your truly trashed and wasted self wouldn't stop whining until those strong arms were wrapped around you like a quilt. Maybe he would hug you this time and you would be (mostly) sober and not sobbing into his shirt like a child. 

Getting there early sounded like a good idea.

But how early? 

You think if you got there too early you might catch him still trying to set up all the bits and pieces that go into an elaborate Strider Machine. Maybe it would be best to give him a little time to work with the electronics that may or may not go into this elaborate friend-date? 

Friend-date. This is going to be a good friend-date, you think. 

Maybe. 

You end up arriving to school two minutes later than you usually would, with no bells and whistles going off between the walk to your locker and the walk to your class. None to report when lunch rolls around, either.  
And you try and act normal. You try your absolute best to not act as if you and Dirk have become passionate lovers trying to hide their affection for one another from their only other friends, a forbidden cafeteria romance in the making. Even acting as though nothing had changed or happened suddenly became harder, because nothing did.  
He's asking you on a friend-date. 

And even the fact that he said that maybe he didn't like Jake as much as he thought he did, and that he really seems to care and worry about you more than any other boy you've ever met, and that maybe you think you see anger flare when a less-than-gentleman mistreats you at a party, means absolutely nothing because he doesn't like you that way. 

So lunch passes in a completely normal fashion, except for your fidgeting leg that bounces under the table until you force it still (which is for naught when your mind starts to wander, once more). Jake and Jane are passing the most adorably shy flirty glances at one another, and you don't look at Dirk at all. 

Jane pulls you aside after you're all done eating and asks if you think Dirk is all right because "it's just so darn hard to tell with him!" 

And you kind of regret not watching him like you usually do at lunch, because you know if you had been you would have had a more honest answer for Janey other than "don't worry about it, he's doing fine." 

Because, actually, you don't know if he's doing fine. But maybe you also don't want to know. 

\----------------------------

It's two very long and sober days later when Dirk finally asks you to prom. You're sitting in biology class, doodling aimlessly in the top corner of Jake's notes when the bell rings. The ringing is followed by a soft rumbling that you think might be coming from the scratching voice box from the PA system, something you don't think has been used since the beginning of the year when a freshman had used it to broadcast some rather juvenile phrases across campus. This was not vulgar language, however, and instead sounded like a thousand scratchy angels, their slow crescendo slowly building and building, causing most of the class to look at each other and for Jake's face to contort in familiarity before he says to you,

"Is that from Carmen?" 

"I think it might be," your biology teacher responds with equal confusion.

"Who's Carmen?" You say as you put your books back in your bag. 

"It's an opera." He laughs and you swing your arm around Jake and try and speak over the growing volume of the music, trying to push him out of the door. 

"Damn, Jakey, you're so refined." 

"My grandmother was quite fond of--oh my." 

Then there it was. A small piece of square pink paper that landed right in the raven locks of your 3rd -in-command bffsy. And then another, followed by another. Until suddenly your vision is blurred and crowded with a blizzard of pink and red, the wisps of paper dancing around you and your classmates as they floated out through the air vent. The mild air conditioning helping sweep the papers through the air at a faster pace. 

And even though you had been expecting this, expecting something ridiculous and obnoxious and over the top, your heart still leaps at the thought that, oh God, this is all meant for you. 

You untangle yourself from Jake as you follow the crowd of students, still eager to leave the classroom regardless of their definite fascination with the combination of confetti and operatic choruses, and escape into the flowing current of the hallway. 

And when you walk out to the hall you stop because you know he's around here somewhere, and you're expecting maybe a robotic cat to suddenly pop onto your shoulder with a "purrhaps you'd like to go to prom with me?" squeaking out of its irresistibly adorable metallic features. Or maybe even a rap to overlay the continuing chorus of voices that are ringing in your ears, and it's almost as if you're having an out of body experience. 

That doesn't happen. 

Instead, you feel a hand on your wrist, the warmth a shock to you, and a hand carefully supporting the small of your back as you're dipped backward in some poorly stepped tango. You can already feel your grace failing you at the worst possible time. The voices of the choir singing a language that you do not understand, but a tune that you definitely recognize, grows louder and louder. You realize that, while you like to think you know about Dirk more than anybody, you will never fully understand his sense of humor.

Somewhere you can hear Jake chuckle and let out a "Good Lord, chap," obviously amused with the whole situation, just as you should be. Because, you should just face it, this is pretty fucking hilarious. But you can't bring yourself to focus on the hilarity of the situation as you stare straight up into those black pointed shades and a firmly pressed line for a mouth. 

He's so close. 

He's so warm. 

You can feel the danger signals coursing through your brain when you allow yourself to let go and smile, laughter exploding through you to hide the fact that your face has turned a shade darker of red that your backwards-tipped head wouldn't quite be able to explain. 

"Now," he says over the music, "you have a date." 

Your smile is so much softer than it should be. You try to force yourself to keep laughing, but Jake is standing right next to you and Dirk still has you in his arms, in a firmly intimate stance. Dirk is still staring right at you, and he's not even flicking his eyes to stare at his (former?) love interest. 

A piece of confetti lands in his hair and it takes everything you've got not to raise your shaking hand up to gently flick it away. 

"You fucking bet I do." 

\---------------------

It turns out that Mr. Stick Up His Ass was not a homophobe and Dirk lands himself in detention for two weeks.


	3. Chapter 3

You had a very lonely first few years of your life, you’re not going to deny that. It wasn’t until you had met Jane in eighth grade that you had really found yourself in the company of friends, and it wasn’t even until freshman year of high school that you found this almost surreal attachment toward the other members of this bizarre clique.  
You try not to dwell on the fact that Dirk, Jake, and Jane had all formed their friendships at the beginning of grade school, while Jake and Jane have known each other since they had been in diapers (their grandparents were very close friends, apparently). You still feel so new, and sometimes more disconnected than you would like.  
Again, you try not to dwell on it.

  
There are times, however, when you feel as though you’ve really become a part of something wonderful.

  
It’s the times when Jane exclaims that she’s finally glad to have a more feminine voice of reason amongst these roughneck boys she’s grown up with, and when she confides in you her feelings toward a Mr. English. It makes you feel so trustworthy and noble.

It’s the times when you and Jake will stream movies online, your willingness to sit through his “eclectic” collection far stronger than your other friends. He’ll laugh at the sassy comments you make, and tell you how much he enjoys your movie nights. You’ll talk with him so easily, gushing over his adorable speech patterns.

  
And with Dirk, it’s the times when he worries about you, talks to you, and doesn’t treat you like a drunken child and instead as if you’re a person worth listening to. It’s when you can start to see the subtle changes in demeanor depending on his moods, how you’ve memorized the lines around his shades and how they move with each smile or frown that is lost in his stoic immobility. It’s when he calls you “Rox” and lectures you for your overly liberal behavior at parties.

  
It’s how he talks to you about the machines, robots, and programs he makes even if sometimes you don’t understand half of what his convoluted orange creamsicle wall of text is trying to say. And sometimes, how he’ll ask you if you have a certain code saved for him to use, even if he gives you shit for your .~ATH projects that only ever seem to amuse you and no one else.

  
It’s how you can talk to him so easily about your mother, and in return he opens himself up about his brother, and you talk for hours about living in the shadow of people you wish you knew. And when your mom goes on business trips and leaves behind a note and a freezer of Lean Cuisines, he’ll always come over to visit, even if you don’t ask him. Even if the most you say is “mom’s out for awhile” and then quickly change the conversation to something about cats.

  
He’s always there.

  
It’s how he told you your sophomore year that he might have a crush on Jake. It’s been a little over a year and you haven’t told anybody, because you’re the only one who knows and you love that (even if it means harboring secrets of your own unrequited affection).

  
It’s how he makes you feel so much happier than you ever thought a person could. How you can feel yourself wanting to give maybe even a sliver of it back, because then you might be doing something to reciprocate everything he has ever done for you.

  
You doubt that’s even possible.

 

gutsyGumshoe [GG] began bothering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

  
GG: It seems as though Mr. Strider was planning on accompanying you from the start. :B  
GG: That was quite a display, I was just leaving English class when it started raining pink paper!   
TG: lololol  
TG: nah u know dirky  
TG: if hes gonna do sumthin hes gonna just go with it  
TG: run with it like theres no tomorrow  
TG: breaking all kinds of olympic gold medals for running and  
TG: not stoppin  
TG: idk   
GG: Yes, that does sound like him.  
GG: It still seemed rather romantic, though.  
GG: It certainly puts my homemade cookies into perspective, hoo hoo.   
TG: woah woah woah  
TG: back up  
TG: 1ts off janey ur cookies r like the best damn thing that could ever happen since evar  
TG: 2nd that wsa like the complete oposite of romantic  
TG: this is a friend date janey  
TG: this all kinds of platonic bromance goin on over in rolal terroityr  
TG: *territory   
GG: Hmm...  
GG: Are you sure?  
GG: It seemed rather grandiose for a mere platonic prom proposal.   
TG: im totes positive  
TG: striders got that whole irony bs thing  
TG: it was like  
TG: a super sweet practical joke  
TG: cept it was like an inside practical joke that like  
TG: only me an strider get  
TG: in fact i think it was mostly an inside joke w him   
GG: I'm not so sure, missy!  
GG: If there's something I feel as though I'm well versed in it's the art of practical japery, and from what I saw earlier today that hardly seemed like a joke to me.  
GG: Especially when you put his many painstakingly extensive "ironic lectures" into account.   
TG: whaddya mean??  
TG: i think this completely fits in with his hole irony gambit or wtfever  
TG: askin out ur knock-otu single female bestie on a frienddate in a way that puts to shame like EVREY lovey dovery couple in the school just cause u can?  
TG: oh and also him bein gay n all  
TG: or undeclared  
TG: i keep tellin him its not a fuckin political party  
TG: either u like the ladies or u dont  
TG: or u like both  
TG: or neither   
GG: ...Have you finished?   
TG: ugh  
TG: the point is it was totally a joke   
GG: And what I'm saying, after sitting through many Irony Lessons, is that perhaps he was being far more sincere than he led you to believe?  
GG: For instance, the irony that stems from many particular situations is carefully laced with a plentiful dose of sincerity. Thus, adding more contrast when the insincerity is magnified.  
GG: The more sincerity is added to the "ironic" act, the more ironic it appears. Though, sifting through each layer of what is and isn't sincere, itself, would take away from the initial humor.  
GG: "Humor."  
GG: Jeez-Louise, I think I should stop before I turn into a complete carbon copy of Dirk Strider!  
GG: Do you see my point, though?   
TG: uhhhh.....  
TG: the joke was funny b/c...  
TG: ............................  
TG: he meant it?   
GG: Well, basically, yes.  
GG: I suppose that is my point!  
GG: Lordy, I sure hope my explanations don't all turn this wordy.   
TG: idk janey  
TG: seems a bit too good to be true if u ask me   
GG: Too good to be true?   
TG: pshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh  
TG: wel yhae  
TG: *yaeh  
TG: i mean who WULODTN want 2 get a piece o tht hunky strider?????  
TG: imangie the line of alllllllllllll the chcikadees thtd just be linin up to get some of tht dirky ass ;)  
TG: *buncha fuckin typos   
GG: You are aware that it's only 4:30, right?  
GG: Have you been drinking already?   
TG: cnt spot wont stop  
TG: *spot  
TG: *STOP   
GG: Hmmm.  
GG: I wonder about you sometimes, Ms. Lalonde.   
TG: im glad u wonder abt me janey  
TG: ;3  
TG: ok im gonna go sleep this off   
GG: I think that might be a good idea.  
GG: I'll message you later tonight, Roxy.  
GG: Bye!

  
tispyGnostalgic [TG] ceased bothering gutsyGumshoe [GG]

  


You have a hard enough time already trying not to get your hopes up, and Jane doesn’t even seem to realize the critical hit she has managed right into your wavering guard.

  
You think, though, that isn’t completely terrible. Perhaps it’s okay to let your guard down just a tad, and enjoy the fact that maybe, just maybe, Dirk Strider may have asked you to prom in an ironic-therefore-totally-sincere way.

  
———————————————

If there’s anyone who has been getting your hopes up for the past week, more than anybody, it’s been you. You tried to stop it, tried to control your raging hope that seemed to slip away from your control, but you soon realize that maybe you should just give up even trying.

  
It’s almost as if every look, small touch, and nudge has been amplified; your blood running hot because that small middle school self in the back of your mind can’t stop blushing over the mere fact that you’re going to prom with him. And it doesn’t even have to be with accompanying thoughts of whether the action was sincere or not. The simple fact that he will be the one to take you stirs you up inside to the point where quelling the feelings with a drink doesn’t seem as appealing anymore.  
Because this is the first time in so long you allow yourself to enjoy the feeling of being in love.

  
And you think to yourself that being in love really is remarkably enjoyable. The feelings bubble up and overflow inside of you, and you find that you don’t mind being swept away by them. You think about him nonstop for an entire week, and instead of a dull numbness that comes from the thoughts of a relationship-that-could-never-be, you indulge in the blissfulness of a boy-who-maybe-could.

You realize that your thoughts are becoming dangerously overgrown after being trimmed and weeded for so long, but between Jane on your right, Jake on her right, and Dirk all around you, you think that maybe, at the very least, he might learn to love you.  
It may not be tomorrow, and it may not be the day after, but maybe one day you won’t be the only one who wants. Maybe one day you’ll find yourself being needed.  
So you enjoy getting ready for prom. You enjoy the extra effort that goes into your make-up, making sure your eyeliner and eye shadow is just so. You enjoy putting on your shining pink dress that that exposes your shoulders, and cuts just above your knees, the fabric flaring out just a tad, but hugging you comfortably the rest of the way up.

Your silver heels make the best noise on the floor, and you like to think that the reason you’re ready a full hour and a half before everyone is supposed to arrive is because you love the way they clack against your hardwood floors.

“Should I take pictures now or should I wait the few days until your prom?”

“I just want to make sure I’m completely ready to go on time, for once, mother.” Is your subtly aggressive quip back, even though her punctuality is hardly a weak point. You think you may have to forfeit this battle, so you enjoy spending the remainder of your downtime sitting on the couch next to her watching reruns of quiz shows that you both already know the answers to.

You spend that hour and a half trying your best not to wrinkle your dress, and being paranoid that the tense air between you and your mom might effect on your hair.  
When Dirk finally rings your doorbell you have this image all set in your head. You’re going to answer the door, and he might take a total no-homo moment to just maybe stop to think you’re pretty? To maybe think that Jane asking Jake to prom was actually a fantastic turn of events. That maybe your legs look really stellar and, wow Roxy, we should go make babies in a totes hetero way.

So you think it’s completely unfair that the gust of wind that blows through your entryway, that actually gives you a reason to be paranoid about your hair, is the first thing that greets you when you open the door for your date.

You think what’s even more unfair is the fact that it’s his breath that’s supposed to be catching and definitely not yours.

You can’t help it, though.

You’ve never seen him in anything more than a t-shirt and jeans and those God-awful anime shades. This is so different. He’s wearing a suit and he’s wearing it extremely well. Even if there’s still that air of youth and immaturity that always seems to find a high school boy in more formal attire, and even if the light pink tie that matches your dress is probably the funniest thing you’ll ever see him wear.

And then there are his eyes.

He doesn’t have his shades tonight and you consider asking why, but you assume it’s because he’s making an effort to be a good prom date. Maybe he wants to make those awkward slow dancing shuffles all the better by the ability to hold eye contact.

And suddenly you can’t wait for the slow dance that you know he’ll grant you, because all you want to do is look into those orange juice eyes.

“You sure clean up nice,” you say with a smile, leaning against the door as you let him in.

“Back at you, Rox.” He nods as he lets himself in and you watch him for awhile before you realize that, seriously, the wind is your sworn hate-enemy and you close the door.

—————————-

Jane and Jake show up shortly after, Jane wearing a classic floor length blue dress that make her eyes so vibrant and expressive, and Jake with his ruffled suit and blue bow tie, matching Jane’s dress almost perfectly (it’s a slight shade lighter). You’re all laughing and killing time in the entryway of your too-big house as you wait for the limo, that all your guardians pitched in for, to show up. It’s when you realize that every observation that you had noted and tucked away in the back of your mind based off the skin around his shades is completely magnified when he doesn’t have them on.

His lips still don’t break their firm line, and his eyebrows only barely twitch in movement, but at least these stoic cool-guy expressions are so much clearer. Maybe that’s why it hurts so much more this time when you catch him staring at Jake.

And after a few minutes you excuse yourself only to come back just as the limo has pulled up in the driveway, a bulky purse in toe with two bottles of your mother’s best wine.

You calm yourself down, as you all step into the limo and you break out your camera to take countless blurred snapshots, by reminding yourself that he’s your date and he’s here with you.

You sit real close to him, for the picture of course, and smile brightly at the lens you’ve hopefully aimed correctly this time.

He doesn’t smile but it’s not totally blurry and that’s good enough for you.

———————————

It’s not as awkward as you thought it might be. You remember freshman year when you has asked Jake to the Sadie Hawkins dance, an actual friend-date through and through, and how your ability to speak to each other like normal human beings completely faded. When you slow danced it was so awkward that you both started laughing because there was simply nothing else you could do.

But you realize, before anything, before being your crush and quite possibly a guy that you would totally marry because, wow, you’re really in love with him a lot, Dirk is your best friend. You feel as though it’s almost impossible to find yourself awkward around him, because you feel so at ease, and he seems to be fairly relaxed as well as you slump into his arm with a giant grin on your face. You might just be a little bit tipsy from the limo ride over.

You both immediately hit the dance floor while Jane and Jake find a nice quiet corner to have an actual conversation, and they sit so close to each other and Jane looks so happy. You smile as you turn to your date who is already dancing.

“It’s prom,” he responds when you ask him why he seems so willing to bust some moves and shake his booty, as you so eloquently put it. “You dance at prom. It’s not like I’m trying to bust a move in the middle of a goddamn psychiatric ward.”

Be that as it may, you still find yourself almost doubling over in laughter when you see him do the cha-cha slide. Jane and Jake have actually joined the crowd for this one and seem to share your amusement, though perhaps not on the same scale.

You think you see Dirk smile a bit when you calm yourself down as a droning song finds its way over the speakers. He says something to you, but the music is too loud and the bass is pumping in time with your heartbeat, so he leans in close to your ear and repeats his original words. You close your eyes and take in the feeling.

“You want to help me out?”

You nod, not even knowing what he’s talking about.

Apparently, he had already decided a week in advance that the music would be terrible. You shuffle with him to wear the DJ is standing, and you do your best to distract him. It works, you realize, when you spin your hair in your finger and make flirty conversation with the college stoner with the growing-out dreads and the shutter shades.  
It takes all of two minutes for the music to take a turn for the better—if a bit stranger. You fist bump Dirk as you watch from the corner of your eye the DJ silently flip the fuck out at the drastic change in agenda, but no one seems to notice, and Dirk seems a bit more pleased with the situation. His nose doesn’t slightly upturn at every song, and the mild rolling of the eyes is hardly present for the rest of the night.

You spend a few moments in the evening standing in a circle in the corner of the room speaking with Jake, Jane, and Dirk when the dancing had become too much for your heel-clad feet. You catch him making a few more stolen glances that were most definitely directed toward someone who was not you, but you try not to worry about it because he’s letting you hold his hand while you take a rest.

It occurs to you, sometime that night, that out of all the couples here, you both have the best hair of them all.

————————————-

When the music turns down to a slow beat the first time, he uses it as an opportunity to find himself one of the free water bottles that the faculty has provided. By the time he rehydrates himself and you both have finished your conversation about how your math teacher looks like a female Jack Black, the mood has changed once again and sick fires have returned in full.

The second time a slow dance comes on, you make sure to hold on to his wrist before he can go anywhere, even if it kind of seems as though he wasn’t particularly planning on it. Either way, when you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a smile, you find yourself saying, “you owe it to me as my wonderful prom date. C’mon, are you really going to dip me in front of the school covered in confetti with opera music playin’ in the background and think you can get away without at least one slow dance?”

And he rolls his eyes but in that way where you can tell he finds you more endearing than a nuisance (at least you hope so, oh God you hope so) and he wraps his arms around your waist. You rest your head on where chest meets neck and let out a small sigh of contentment. The rocking almost lulling you into a comfortable daze.

“Hey.”

“Yessss?” You slur.

“Thanks.”

You open your eyes and bring your head back to look him in the eyes. His stoic nature still set in place, but his sincerity slipped into his words, an act he surely controlled, just as he controls every one of his meticulously planned and carefully constructed sentences.

“For what? Y’know if anything I should be thanking you. You don’t even understand the social pressure of being such a hot-mama and not havin’ a date.” You giggle and he lets out a half snort.

“I wanted to thank you for coming with me tonight. Means a lot, Rox.”

How big is your smile, you think your cheeks might break off your face. “Anytime, Distri.”

“You know this ain’t exactly my ideal, but it turned out pretty damn awesome, anyway.” He nods to you as he continues to rock you to the slow beat. You feel something jam into your heart. “I still owe you a sundae, I guess.”

“Yeah…” You rest your head back down for a moment before bringing it back up to look him in the eye again. “What do you mean ideal?”

“Wow, Rox. It’s not as if I haven’t spilled to you my plans for prom since a month ago. You know what I mean.” And he tilts his head a bit in the direction where Jake and Jane have been dancing in the sweetest, most pure way you think you’ve ever seen from a high school dance. He looks at you really confused, but you can’t help your feet from stopping their back and forth motions.

“I thought you said you, like, only fell for the idea of the guy.” You shake your head trying to comprehend this. “Like, ‘I think I like the idea of Jake English more than just Jake’ or were you just totally shitting me?” And the bite in your words isn’t something that you mean to come out, and even he looks a bit taken back at your tone of voice.

“Sure, Ro. But I still like the guy. Can’t blame me for being somewhat dejected at this whole clusterfuck.” He’s so calm and reasonable and not even defensive. You wonder why is he putting up with you, why is he humoring you with all this, why does he bother with such a mess, because you know you can feel tears forming because you really, really just thought…

Why are you getting angry? Just because you were a little hopeful didn’t mean anything had changed.

“Oh shit.” You say, as you rest your forehead against him. “I’m plan B, huh?” Those are not tears, you are not ruining the makeup that you had spent 45 minutes perfecting over a boy you never even had. God _dammit_.

You’re angry. You’re really angry. You can’t even explain why you’re angry, because he did nothing wrong. He didn’t. It was your own fault for even beginning to think that maybe you could be as loved as he is.

“Rox?”

This can’t be happening.

It’s been three years. Three years of not even realizing how much it hurt to hear him speak, how much it hurt to be an outside observer of all his barely-there emotions, how much it hurt to see him smile when he wasn’t smiling at you, and how much it hurt to be around him. You never noticed because at least you were around him. But this will never change, you’ll always be second best, always always always.

Because he doesn’t even realize how much he’s done for you, how much he’s made you fall in love with him. And because the amount of impact you’ve probably had on his life is about as much as a dead fly on a tiny windshield.

Why did you never realize how much it hurt? And how much you just hated him for that?

So you wrench yourself out of his grip and run out of the dance hall as fast as your heels can take you. You think you might have heard him running after you, but you honestly doubt it. If he wanted to catch you, he would. But you’re still running and, dammit, that makeup really did take a long time to apply.

You call the limo from your phone, because your purse is still in there and you think that wine sounds just about the most delicious thing in the world right now. Though not nearly as appealing as some straight martinis.

The venue for prom is nearly fifty minutes away from your house, and while you love the idea of leaving Dirk abandoned without a ride, you wouldn’t be able to do that to Jake and Jane. So you ask the driver to take you to the nearest McDonalds. You sit on the curb with your running mascara, drink your wine straight from the bottle, and wait for the cab you ordered to show up. The limo long since left to return to the dance, you bet it’s probably just about ending by now, and you shoot Jane a text.

janey hed hmoe w/o tu me k?? i lrady left so its ndb

You refuse to answer the multiple texts and calls that litter your phone from that point on until you finally decide to shut it off once and for all by throwing the battery into the street and watching a little Volkswagen bug crush it to bits.

When you finally get home you down two martinis and pass out in a pile of freshly folded clothes in the laundry room, where your mother keeps the liquor. When you wake up you find yourself wrapped in one of your mother’s hand-knit blankets and with the wine you had fallen asleep cradling last night (or just a few hours before, you’re not sure of the time but it isn’t light out yet) sitting straight up next to a crystal glass.

The best you can do to counter this in your delicate state is to throw up on the newly polished floors, wrap the blanket around your shoulders, and spend the next ten hours in bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all who have commented and read and just skdjfsdf in general. You all have made my week! Also, everyone should look at the fanart bam-squared made for the last chapter! http://bam-squared.tumblr.com/post/19499830199/why-are-you-getting-angry-just-because-you-were-a Ugh, seriously, so many cool people.

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TT: Hey.    
TG: oh NO u dnot!!  
TG: u jstu get yer buuty all turned aruon n just head on back to where u came from and u unpester me strider  
TG: talkin to u is liek the LAST hnig i would wanna do liek EVAR rn  
TG: in fact i would rathr b watchin this rly ba documntary on how tigers eat shit like omg run little antalpoe RUN oh noooo looks liek ur the weaker of the herd ur totes fuuuucked  
TG: oh man this is how i wanna be sepndin my sunday n not all up and talkin to some guy w ridic anime shades tht rnt even that cool  
TG: *jfc buncha damn typos but w/e bc i  
TG: *dont  
TG: 8givea  
TG: *SHIT   
TT: I was hoping we could talk about what happened in a somewhat mature manner.    
TG: nOPE

tipsyGnostalgic [TG]  has blocked timaeusTestified [TT] 

 

Your name is Dirk Strider, and you have a very bad feeling that you messed up. You're just trying to figure out how.  
Roxy isn't helping. 

You push your shades up a little as you pinch the bridge of your nose, your exasperation etching itself onto your features. People are so frustrating, and sometimes you can't understand why. 

You replay every action, every word, every movement in your head from the past few weeks, and the most logical conclusion you can draw from all of it is that Roxy is overreacting to a meaningless, misunderstood comment you had made in passing. Even if, now that you think about it, "not ideal" was not the ideal fucking thing to say to an emotionally unstable teenage girl. 

Still, that doesn't mean she can't be reasonable, or that you can't be reasonable in response. You just need to sit her down and explain that every step of this chaotic conundrum between them could have been easily avoided with better communication. Though, you're pretty damn sure that you had made yourself fairly clear throughout this entire process. You were unable to ask out Jake, thus leading to an inevitable situation where you would ask out Roxy as a friend, because she clearly wanted to go with someone, even if it was just as friends. From that you asked her out, because you were both dateless (and maybe lonely), and sure you may have gone over the top, but what you had originally planned for Jake had been even more ostentatious. 

(It didn't matter, you still got detention for it.)

Maybe you shouldn't bring that up when you talk to her again, though. That would only sound as if you're trying to rub salt onto this wound that Lalonde has torn through her own being, and if anything you just want to fix it. You want to fix what's wrong, you want to fix what you said and what you did, you want to fix everything that made her this goddamn pissed (in every sense of the word). 

Sometimes you think that you mostly just want to fix her. Because she deserves to be fixed, she deserves to be put together and healthy. And, fuck everything, if you actually said something, as meaningless as it was, to make her break even more. 

Thus, why you need to calm her overly exaggerated theories as to your own barely-formed implications as soon as possible.  
And you can't do that if she won't even talk to you. 

You think that maybe she does need time. Maybe to sort it out in her own mind, to calm down in her own ways before unblocking you within the next few hours or so. You'll keep pesterchum up and running on your phone, just in case she pings you while you're away from the computer. Though, you don't see any need to be away today, it's Sunday and it's not like you have anything to do. 

Seriously, she just needs time. 

Time to think. 

Time to calm down. 

Time to drown herself in alcohol (and you know her mom will do nothing about it). 

Time to mull over her own uselessness because you said she wasn't "ideal"?

You didn't even mean it that way. 

Well if Roxy isn't going to talk to you, at least Jane will.

 

timaeusTestified [TT]  began pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG]

TT: Jane.  
TT: Are you there?  
TT: Let me know when you are.   
GG: Oh, sorry Dirk.  
GG: It seems like everyone decided to message me at the same time. :B  
GG: How can I help you?    
TT: Nah, it's cool.  
TT: I was just wondering if you had spoken to Roxy. Or even if you are doing so currently.  
TT: Jane?    
GG: I'm here, sorry.  
GG: Yes, I'm speaking to Roxy at the moment.  
GG: We haven't been talking for very long, though.    
TT: I was just wondering how she was doing. She blocked me on pesterchum and she won't respond to any of my texts or calls. I just wanted an update on the situation, I have a feeling I'll be blocked for the next several hours.    
GG: "Update on the situation."  
GG: Well, she's not doing well, if that's what you're asking.  
GG: And apparently she threw her phone battery into the street the other night?  
GG: Though I doubt she would be answering your texts anyway, had that not been the case.   
TT: I doubt she would be, either.  
TT: And I was hoping for a little bit more detail than the blindingly obvious fact that she's drinking her liver into ruin to compensate for her lack of well-being.    
GG: Sorry, Dirk, I don't really think this is something I should talk about with you.  
GG: There's a reason she blocked you, buster!   
TT: I'm not askin' you to copy/paste the entire pesterlog, I'm just looking for a little bit of information on this current predicament if I'm going to try and patch things up first thing tomorrow.    
GG: I still don't feel entirely comfortable talking about this.  
GG: And, pardon me if this comes off a bit rude, I think if you don't understand your current "predicament" on your own then nothing I say will help you with that.    
TT: For the most part, I know the problem. I'm not a completely oblivious doucheprince who fucking shits on his subjects and raises their income taxes while I sit on my ass eating a goddamn turkey leg, wondering why the peasants are revolting against me.  
TT: I was just hoping to get a little bit more of Roxy's side into this.  
TT: Also, Jane, it kinda sounds like you're being short with me.    
GG: I am coming off as a bit standoffish, aren't I?  
GG: I'm sorry, I really don't mean to at all. ):  
GG: Especially since this seems to be partly my fault.  
GG: Ms. Lalonde is giving me quite the earful.    
TT: Now I'm starting to think that maybe I don't have a complete grasp on this situation.  
TT: I was the one who said sometimes to make her fly off the damn handle, I don't know what you could have possible done to assist in a passing comment.    
GG: Uh.  
GG: What comment?  
GG: I'm a little confused now, too, I think.    
TT: I made a dumbass out of myself when we were dancing. Said something about this not being the ideal situation to be in and she took it the wrong way.  
TT: I understand the insensitivity of my remark and that it's respectively my duty to make amends, but she's making it all hells kind of difficult, yo.    
GG: Oh.  
GG: Ohhhhhh.  
GG: Dirk, I think you're a little confused.  
GG: You meant it wasn't the ideal situation because you were going to ask Jake, right?    
TT: Yeah.  
TT: It's probably not my place to get upset over the fact that you know about that, especially if Lalonde is in another conversation with you spilling out her drunken guts.    
GG: She actually told me a couple weeks ago.  
GG: But if it makes you feel any better, it's only because she was so darn certain Jake was going to say yes.  
GG: To you.    
TT: Well, fuck.    
GG: Indeed.    
TT: You still haven't explained to me yet how you had a hand in this whole mess.    
GG: I still don't think I feel completely comfortable with that!  
GG: And to be perfectly honest, Mr. Strider, while I also accept that my own presumptuously misleading comments may have caused some of this drama, I can't say I'm all that happy with you right now.    
TT: Which I would be able to understand if you would drop me a fuckin' line here, Crocker.    
GG: Well.  
GG: If you ask me Roxy is, perhaps, overreacting a bit. And she also seems to be far more upset over this than she probably should be. While I have an idea why, the fact that she insists on dragging out these ridiculously inebriated conversations with me is driving me up the gosh darn wall!  
GG: But that doesn't change the fact that she is upset over something you did. As her best friend I suppose that makes me a tad bit hot under the collar, as well?    
TT: Alright, that's fair. I can see your point, even if your little tangent is close to impossible to comprehend.  
TT: You do realize that I'm just trying to apologize, right? I'm not trying to be the bad guy here.    
GG: And you're not the bad guy, I know you aren't.  
GG: But I highly doubt you even know what you're apologizing for, and that's why Roxy can't talk to you right now.  
GG: Actually, now that I think about it, this is really sad. :(    
TT: You've lost me again. I am in the middle of a jungle in South Africa with no compass, no map, and no hope of survival. Help me, Crocker, you're my only goddamn hope.    
GG: It's not really my place to say.  
GG: Though I can't say it's all that hard to piece together.  
GG: You're being rather uncharacteristically unintelligent over this entire matter!    
TT: I wonder what will find me first, the bloodthirsty tigers or the overwhelming starvation.    
GG: Augh! Alright, fine. But only because you SHOULD have realized this far sooner!  
GG: You were very much hoping to go to prom with Jake, if I'm not mistaken?    
TT: You're not.    
GG: Well, Roxy was hoping to go with someone too, and was thrilled when that person not only asked her, but asked in such an extravagant way it was impossible for her not to get her hopes up.  
GG: Something I probably should not assisted.  
GG: I have to go now, Dirk.  
GG: And please, just give her some time. That's all she really needs right now. 

gutsyGumshoe [GG]  ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] 

 

Okay, so maybe you lied. You are the world's biggest doucheprince, shat-on subjects and all. 

\--------------------------------------

The first time you see Roxy is that following Monday. She's sitting where you would normally sit in math class. Her eyes are faced forward and glazed, and a pen cap is between her glossed lips. You feel yourself sigh as you resign to sit behind her and think about tapping her on the shoulder several times. You immediately reject the idea, because, honestly, what good would that do? You let her have her small victory as you silently flick your gaze between the projector notes and the back of Roxy's light blonde hair, the ends curling neatly around the middle of her neck. 

Sometimes, during the class, you bring your hand up to scratch your head as if you felt something there, a pen, an eraser, or maybe even a paper clip chain, but realize you're just not used to this seat and focus your attention back to the teacher. 

The rest of the day passes with an looming cloud of exhaustion and slight nausea . You sigh a bit more, you slouch just a tad, and you yawn quite a bit. You can't figure why, you got a perfectly fine amount of sleep last night, albeit a bit restless. 

Lunch, you find, only weighs on your appetite in a completely unpleasant way when you turn to sit at your usual table only to see Jake sitting on his own, giving you a sympathetic smile. 

"Apparently the ladies won't be joining us this afternoon."

You nod and try and talk with a boy that you're almost positive you have a crush on, but Jane's bright blue text finds its way back to you more than once throughout the conversation. After ten minutes of trying, you settle for silence. Jake seems to understand, and you eat your meals in peace. You realize you really like that about him, but you feel the fluttering sensation turn bitter in seconds when you think that there's no one else to share this comfortable silence with. 

Maybe you became more attached to these group luncheons than you first realized. 

She walks home without you that day, and today you don't even try and kill time with English after school. Instead, you head straight home. Once home, you lay on the couch and watch Seabiscuit. Your bro arrives a few hours later as you're flipping through channels, stares at you through his shades, and orders two pizzas with pineapples and hamburger. Your favorite. You thank him by sitting on the couch and watching Wheel of Fortune with him, his humor beating out your own this evening when you otherwise would have turned to ABC Family and watched reruns of '90s sitcoms. You've always had an unsettled disagreement with him about which is the most wholesome family programming. Him thinking it's Game Show Network is just a difference in opinion (but he's wrong). 

You convince yourself that once the weight of an unsaid apology is off your shoulders you'll be able to function in society like a normal human being once again.  
By the time Thursday rolls around, your days have been filled with a noticeable lack of bubblegum pink words. You watch the back of a head in your second period, always thinking of the three paged speech you had prepared--for when she talks to you again--over and over in your mind. Apparently, according to Jane, Roxy still needs time, and you begrudgingly resist the temptation to hack her pesterchum and unblock yourself. 

Or maybe even to wait by her locker (though maybe you find yourself lingering there a little too long, already). 

You can't quite explain the sensation of not having Roxy in your life, though. You have grown so accustomed to her, to her bubbling presence, to her constant swearing, to her slurred petnames, to her ridiculous shoves when you're walking down the hallway. 

You hadn't even realized how much time you spent with her; it's before school (when you cross paths on the way), during school (in math class, down the halls, lunch, and free period), after school (on the way home, at your apartment, at her house, at the ice cream place, at the used record store), and even on weekends (on pesterchum, through text, on the phone, on webcam, at a party, or at dinner). 

It's so strange, because for so long you had thought about, dreamed about, and agonized over lines and lines of forest green text. Buck teeth, and tanned, toned arms with skinny legs, and a goofy grin would cloud your daydreams. You thought about "I say"s, and "devil fucking dickens" and maybe one day "I like you too"s.  
You thought about the friend who had pulled you out from the darker days of your younger years; when you were stupid and pretentious and your brother was never there. You thought about the times he was there, and thought that if he could stay there, with you, that would be damn near amazing. 

You thought about your best friend until it became something that you just... thought. And you can't say that he became stale, because he didn't. You can't say that that he became less important, because he hasn't. You can't say you don't think about him, because you do. 

But you can also say that after a long while of thinking, thinking, thinking and never stopping, your brain turned him into nothing more than a thought. You can also say that you know firsthand that a thought can't hurt you as much as a physical being, especially when that being won't let you near them, blocks you, and refuses to answer your phone calls.  
And you think to yourself, as you slouch in your swiveling chair in front of your computer, with Roxy you never thought at all. 

And you sit and wonder about the bizarre feelings that surge through your body. Feelings caused by someone you can't bring yourself to work over in your brain; someone you can't think about. 

You can already feel this epiphany clash brutally against your innards. 

 

golgothasTerror [GT]  began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] 

GT: Bro you there?  
GT: Just popping in to ask how youre fairing.   
TT: Hey Jake.  
TT: That depends if you're asking me on a bullshit status in which you're trying to start a conversation that completely deviates from your initial formalities and stems into a topic you already had in mind, or if you're being truly sincere and wondering how the inside of the Strider-Mechanics are functioning at the moment.  
TT: In either case, I'm fine.   
GT: Uh well i suppose it was both...  
GT: Jiminy christmas strider i can hardly work through half of your ridiculous spiels when you get in these moods!   
TT: These moods?   
GT: Yes! *These moods*. The moods in which you get so ludicrously wordy and incomprehensible to cover all your lack of ironies.  
GT: A fellow can hardly check up on his bro without getting every word psychoanalyzed up the metaphorical bunghole.  
GT: So let me try once more.   
TT: Go ahead.   
GT: How are you fairing now that ms roxy has given you the bitter side of sobriety and still hasnt said a word to you in nearly a week now?   
TT: Hey man, way to catch me off guard.  
TT: You're bringing this up so out of the blue, I can't even wrap my mind around the shellshock.   
GT: Hardy har.  
GT: Ive been discussing the matter back and forth with jane for quite some time now and since it appears she has been aiding her female comrade with comforting words and frozen treats i should be in charge of your comforting needs as well.   
TT: So what you're saying is you're trying to reach out and nurse me back to health in this fragile time of need so as not to be outdone by your female counterpart.  
TT: I'm the luckiest girl in the world.   
GT: Confound it dirk! Would you stop twisting my words?? This is the exact reason i put off bringing this up for so long.   
TT: Is it?   
GT: Well perhaps along with other reasons...  
GT: The point is im trying to helpful and i would appreciate if we could have a proper bro to bro considering it seems about prime time you would need to let some things off your chest.   
TT: What exactly do you think needs to be let off my chest?   
GT: Perhaps your own point of view on the matter at hand?  
GT: Jane hasnt filled me in much of what happened saying its not my place really. Which i would normally tend to agree with but it seems to be affecting everyone in our group of friends.  
GT: And you dont seem to be holding up very well.  
GT: Strider?   
TT: I'm here.  
TT: I hadn't noticed I had been acting any differently.   
GT: Dirk we have known each other since the sandbox days of our childhood. At least trust me when i say i can tell when youre feeling a bit blue.   
TT: Fair enough.  
TT: I appreciate the effort, Jake. Not even being a dick this time when I say that.  
TT: But I don't think it would be a good idea to discuss everything that happened. It's fairly complicated, going far beyond a few poorly chosen words.  
TT: This is an entire fucking saga that dates back to before the world began turning. Imbedded in our history before dinosaurs, yo.  
TT: All leading up to this one week surrounding a high school prom.  
TT: Shit, I'm sure I could sell the movie idea to my bro. He can add it to his collection of projects that consist of a budget of less than five fucking dollars.   
GT: I see.  
GT: I wasnt aware you wouldnt be able to talk about it with me. Though i do understand that were not exactly women when it comes to spilling our feelings over one another.   
TT: Sorry to disappoint.   
GT: Is this simply because you feel uncomfortable discussing your feelings concerning roxy with anyone?  
GT: Or is it because you were going to ask me to prom?   
TT: Okay, what the fuck.  
TT: Who told you that? Has maintaining the art of the element of surprise completely lost?  
TT: Most goddamn anticlimactic moment I have ever lived through.   
GT: No one told me. It was just a hunch.  
GT: A damn spot on one it seems!  
GT: And i cant say i see where you would have needed to use the element of surprise now that prom has ended.   
TT: You ruined any chance for some amazingly elaborate confession.  
TT: I was going to make things all awkward and shit between us, unable to look each other in the eye for days, unable to talk except over pesterchum and text until things got so ridiculously complicated we wouldn't be able to talk for months on end.  
TT: You would question your sexuality, I would set up appointments with my bro's shitty therapist, etc. But now you're just crushing this image by being so goddamn cavalier about the whole thing.  
TT: Way to fuck with a guy's emotions, dude.   
GT: I apologize???  
GT: Not to say that doesnt all sound like a rip snorting good time.   
TT: Sometimes you amaze me, Jake.   
GT: I seriously doubt that ive done anything to earn such praise.  
GT: And in any case if that was the reason you werent indulging in my previously suggested bro to bro i hope this clears the air a bit more.  
GT: You can stop being so friggin cryptic now is what im trying to say!   
TT: Christ, I guess there's no point in it now.  
TT: I don't really know what else to say other than I might have fucked up.  
TT: It's hardly my fault, though. I'm not a damn mind reader.  
TT: It just sucks, you know?  
TT: Spent all my time bitching to Roxy about this unrequited amorous bullshit and she just took it like a fucking champ. Never even told me to shut the fuck up because the guy she was into was going on and on about his homofeelings for his best bro.  
TT: Again, I'm not a mind reader, but I know how it feels to just sit back and watch. I just wish she would have said something sooner.   
GT: Well that certainly shines light on why roxy has been so upset lately.   
TT: No shit.  
TT: She won't even fucking talk to me.  
TT: I've been blocked on her pesterchum for a week now.   
GT: I dont think shes actually signed on for nearly a week actually. Jane tells me their main form of communication is over the phone or through text messaging.  
GT: Unless she blocked me as well. Given the situation its not impossible.   
TT: Nah, that doesn't sound like her.   
GT: Speak of the devil! She just appeared on my contact list.   
TT: Mine too.   
GT: I believe that youre being given the green light strider.   
TT: Yeah, I'm going to message her now, I'll catch up with you later.  
TT: But about the homofeelings.   
GT: You want to talk about this now??   
TT: Just got a quick question, is all.   
GT: Alright shoot bro.   
TT: If I had asked you first, would you have said yes?   
GT: Hmmm...  
GT: I suppose i would have.  
GT: But i should probably tell you that i was entertaining the idea of asking jane out myself. My cowardice got the better of me in the end. That gal really surprised me asking me all of the sudden like that!  
GT: Though i think it turned out for the better that we went with who we did in all honesty.   
TT: You call this the better?   
GT: If you dont make a total arse of yourself in the next few minutes with miss lalonde then yes i believe it is.  
GT: Now go on!!   
TT: I am.  
TT: Jake?   
GT: *sighs heavily* yes???   
TT: I was going to thank you, but instead I think I'm just going to call you an asshole.   
GT: What ever gets you out of here!  
GT: And no problem dude. 

timaeusTestified [TT]  ceased pestering golgothasTerror [GT]


	5. Chapter 5

Your name is Roxy Lalonde, and you have no idea how you ever coped with the fact that the boy you may be completely overwhelmingly in love with is in homo for another guy.  
How did you convince yourself before? Trick yourself so skillfully? As long as you weren't thinking about it--that thorn in your side that seemed to lodge its way into your chest--and as long as you were still near him, around him, with him in some way, it was okay. Because his sole presence was enough to calm those crashing waves that seemed determined to sweep you away; the same damn waves he caused in the first place. 

What a load of bullshit. 

It's been a week and everything hurts. It doesn't matter if he's near or away, everything hurts and everything sucks and, seriously, how did you do this before? Because when he's not around, you miss him, and you miss talking to him and clinging onto his arm and flicking things at him when he spaces out. And when he is around it's as if your insides have been compressed so tightly that you can't breathe. It's as if any wrong breath could set off a ticking time bomb between you two; what if he looks at you? And what if it's not in the way he usually does? 

He doesn't, though.

You like to believe that you are a classic martini drinker like your mother who is the very personification of cheeky elegance, but you teach yourself how to make the perfect dry vodka martini that week. It burns going down but you find yourself going to sleep much quicker than with the aid of gin and vermouth. You wake up at strange times and sleep at strange times; the only thing keeping you on a somewhat normal schedule being the multiple texts from Jane and your alarm clock in the morning. 

You like to believe that you took this week to clear your head, to give yourself some space and some time to heal before you know you face him again. You are eventually going to have to face him, you know. You can't keep this up forever (though sometimes you wonder if he could).

He doesn't text you, he doesn't pester you, he doesn't call you, and he doesn't talk to you. You understand that after the scene you made why he wouldn't want to or why he would think you wouldn't want to. 

But you do. You want him to try. You want him to cling onto you. You want him to be as miserable as you are, but he's not because, seriously, you're such a mess of a friend and your absence must be such a well deserved rest for Mr. Strider.

After a day you realize that you're not angry, you're just sad. You're just sad and upset and dejected and you feel so goddamn shitty, and the one person who made you feel better you can't even bring yourself to look in the eye. This is all your fault, really. Maybe it's best to stay away for awhile.  
If anything, it would be for him. 

But by the time it's Saturday again you think you're still not sober from Sunday, and you don't even bother putting on make-up or getting dressed or brushing your teeth or even moving because this week is just not worth it. You think that maybe the reason you were able to power through this mess in your head for so long was because it really is better being near him, because you miss him so much. And so what if it hurts? You can learn to make it not hurt. And so what if he really doesn't want to be around you or that he hasn't tried once this week to talk to you or that at prom he didn't even run after you? You can be selfish once in awhile and selfish you will be. 

You stare at his contact in your phone for almost twelve minutes before digging your laptop out from a pile of laundry on the floor and you flop back into bed. You stare at his handle (your status still set to abscond for the moment) for another eight minutes before you whip out your phone again to shoot Jane a text. 

janeyyyyy

hey janey

hm actually no nvm its nothign

i dont think ur there anyway

yea ok just let me know when u got ur phone back 

u didnt get grounded di u??? 

ill talk to daddy crocker for u to give u back his phone on account of ur bffsy bein a hot mess

I did not get grounded, fyi! My phone was in my coat pocket and I didn't hear it, sorry. ): 

Do you need me to call again?

nah its cool i was just wonderin if i could hit u up for some advie

again lol

Sure thing.

um well u know how i blocked distri for like ever? well i was thinking about not doing that anymore or something idk

If you feel as though you're ready to, I think it's a great idea.

yea ok

but idk what if he still doesnt want to talk to me??? 

*You've* been the one avoiding *him*, Roxy.

ugh yea i know but what if he thinks im a total super bitch now 

I highly doubt that will be the case. I think it's a good idea IF you're ready to talk to him again, but please don't force yourself into anything.

He'll definitely want to talk to you.

i think u have to say that b/c of the bff status

but ok

i guess i will

Text me later if you still need to talk. :B

 

She means text her later if you totally screw this up. The probability of that happening is very high. You stare at his handle for another few minutes before minimizing pesterchum only to open it again. You take a deep breath, unblock him, set your status to chummy (they don't have an I'm feeling all kinds of shitty and I miss you a lot but being online make me want to vomit status???), and abscond from your room into the bathroom to wash your face as fast as you can. 

You take a long look at yourself in the mirror and grimace. Your hair's a mess, the mascara from yesterday has caked itself around your eyes, your lips are chapped, and you just look so tired. Which is strange, because all you seem to be doing is drinking and then sleeping. Did you even have homework this week? You can't really remember. 

You steel your mind as you leave the bathroom and dawdle in the hall as you make the long walk back to your room. You're going to message him, you're going to apologize, and you're going to make everything normal again. That's all you really want. It's your own damn fault any of this got un-normal in the first place. You were the one that started this whole thing because of one stupid, stupid comment. 

Not ideal. 

No, you're not ideal. You're not the ideal person, you would not be the ideal girlfriend, you were not the ideal prom date, and, hell, you're barely even an ideal friend. 

But he's just going to have to deal with that. 

By the time you make it back to your computer your stomach jumps when you see the application already flashing. 

 

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TT: Hey.  
TT: Rox?  
TT: Are you there?  
TT: You know, there's hardly any point in finally unblocking me if you're just callously going to ignore my messages, regardless.  
TT: I'll be here when you're ready to talk about this like a grown-up. I've booked us a conference room and gotten the soggiest tuna salad sandwiches for catering.  
TT: I've even prepared a two hour long PowerPoint just for today.  
TT: Christ, I'll stop. Just tell me when you're ready to talk.    
TG: omg dirky wtf  
TG: i was takin a trip to the little girls room calm down  
TG: no need to get super clingy duh i unblocked u for a reason  
TG: you still there dirk??    
TT: I'm here.  
TT: Sorry.    
TG: for what??? freakin out cuz i went afk for like two minutes???  
TG: sok dirky i forgive u but only because ur such a cutie   
TT: Well damn, if I knew I could have played that card I would've ended this a week ago.    
TG: idk dirky youre not THAT cute  
TG: p close though   
TT: I'll keep that in mind.  
TT: So I'm officially unblocked?    
TG: pshhhh yea i guess so  
TG: if you wanna get all formal about it  
TG: but yea i guess im done being a super bitch   
TT: I think dishing out the cold shoulder like the goddamn Himalayas hardly counts as being a super bitch.  
TT: Jane said you needed some time, I wasn't going to force you into talking to me when you weren't ready.    
TG: janey said that????    
TT: Was she wrong?    
TG: hmmmm  
TG: no i geuss not but  
TG: i mean  
TG: you couldve  
TG: if u wanted  
TG: after a while i kinda felt like i was doin you a favor by going awol lol   
TT: Do me a favor, Rox, and don't do me anymore fucking favors again, a'ight?    
TG: awwwwwww didja miss me??    
TT: This may come as a massive shock to you, Rox, but over the past four years I've formed this strange human emotion called friendship for you under this steel carapace.  
TT: A heartwarming family tale where the robot learns to give a shit in the end.  
TT: Yeah, I missed you.    
TG: hehehehe  
TG: yea well  
TG: i kinda missed ur face too  
TG: and ignorin u is kind of a pain in the ass   
TT: Being ignored by you is kind of a pain in the ass.    
TG: hehehe sorry dirky  
TG: just needed some solo rolal time  
TG: had to work some shit out in my head thats all  
TG: i didnt mean to makes things super awk or anything   
TT: It's cool.  
TT: I understand.    
TG: yea i bet u do  
TG: soooooooooooooooo were good?    
TT: Not really, no.  
TT: I still haven't apologized.  
TT: For a lot of things.    
TG: oooooooooo  
TG: at first i was gonna say  
TG: omg no!!! what do you have to apologize for??? blahblahblah  
TG: but fuck the song n dance dirky  
TG: im not gonna pass up a rare strider apology feelings jam session  
TG: im just gonna sit here n let u take the floor   
TT: Glad you're enjoying this.  
TT: Well, first off, I wanted to apologize for being a massive prick at prom. I didn't mean for what I said to come across the way it did, but either way it was a douche move.    
TG: hmmmmmm  
TG: ok well douche baggery apology accepted   
TT: I really did have a great time that night.  
TT: Granted this was before you stormed the fuck out and we had no goddamn idea where you went or what you were doing.  
TT: We knew you had the wine, though, which was hella comforting.    
TG: ok yea that was my b  
TG: sorry   
TT: It's cool.  
TT: Second, I wanted to apologize for being the biggest obtuse fuck on the face of the planet.  
TT: Can't say I really blame you for not wanting to talk to me for as long as you did.    
TG: lol what???    
TT: I've been kind of a dumbass regarding you and how I've understood jack shit about what you've been feeling.  
TT: About me.    
TG: dirk  
TG: dont  
TG: just dont   
TT: Look, I'm not trying to make things "super awk," and I'm not trying to call you out on anything. I just wanted to apologize for not realizing anything sooner. I would've shut the fuck up once or twice had I known.    
TG: jfc dirky  
TG: well DUH you didnt realize anything thats kind of what i was going for  
TG: i dont WANT u to shut ur trap because were freinds ur supposed to talk to me about all the shit in ur life  
TG: omfg why are you even bringing this up???    
TT: Why is it that I get to dump all my shit on you but you haven't been straight about me regarding everything I've been fucking up here?  
TT: I figured maybe you wanted to finally talk about it? Maybe even take a few swings and bitch me out? Fuck, I don't care, Rox, I'm just trying to make things better.    
TG: talkin about this is kind of the last thing i ever wanna do ever in all of ever and forever  
TG: and then some  
TG: if u wanted to make things better u should ahve just pretended you didnt know  
TG: can u just do that??    
TT: And where the hell does that leave you?   
TG: a lot better like u fuckin wanted   
TT: I'm just trying to help. Because fuck if talking to you wasn't the only thing that got me through those past few goddamn years of this bullshit.  
TT: Maybe I just want to return the goddamn favor.   
TG: ok well y dont you return the favor that im favorin you  
TG: and dont do me any favors at all ok???  
TG: then we can totally b even  
TG: i seriosuly do not need to talk about this n ELAST of all w you  
TG: ugh ok this was way too soon i gotta go 

tipsyGnostalgic [TG]  has blocked timaeusTestified [TT] 

timaeusTestified [TT]  began pestering tipsyGnostalgic [TG]

TT: Roxy.    
TG: dirky when someone blokcs u that means they dont wanna talk to u  
TG: that doesnt mean ur supposed to hack their account like a big stalker creep  
TG: so GTFO   
TT: I'm not here to talk about anything you don't want to.    
TG: well then what do u want bcuz my cursers gettin dangerously close to the block button distri    
TT: I still owe you a sundae.    
TG: ................  
TG: yea  
TG: well  
TG: u fucking bet you do    
TT: If you meet me there in ten minutes I'll drop it.  
TT: Let's just not do this again.    
TG: ........................ugh fine  
TG: but this better be like the best sundaw in the whole world

tipsyGnostalgic [TG]  ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] 

 

You have no idea how you're supposed to stomach even one bite of a sundae. 

You do your make-up, anyway. 

\--------------------------

When you finally arrive at the usual ice cream shoppe he's already there. You both don't really say anything, but he nods and so do you and you follow him inside. The line is long and you shuffle back and forth on your feet as he sticks his hands in his pockets and stares straight ahead. 

When you get to the counter you seriously consider getting the strawberry shake because you really don't think you can do this one hundred percent sober, and you have no idea how you could possibly spike a sundae, but you know you've made him worry enough. 

And maybe he'll tease you for not being able to finish it? That would be kind of nice. 

You both say nothing to each other as you place your orders, and as you wait to the side of the counter for your frozen treats you stand next to him and try not to look up at him so obviously. It takes a few minutes but you lean into him, savoring the arm he puts around you in return. He may be the most comfortable human being you've ever known. 

You smile, and you think he might too, and you stay leaned into him until your sundae with everything on it and his cup of vanilla with caramel sauce are being pushed toward you by an employee. 

You suddenly feel really cold when he breaks away to grab both your orders and heads outside to sit on the bench, and you really wish you had brought a sweater. 

Things are better. But you still don't know how you're supposed to eat the whole thing. 

\-------------------------------

"You know, Dirky," you start very tentatively, there's still this dangerous air between you two, and it makes your shoulders stiffen and your neck cramp. "I think this is the first time you being completely silent completely sucks." A spoonful of ice cream as you give him a smile. "You can talk, yknow. Just not about certain sensitive issues, okay?" Had you been online the word 'sensitive' would have been coded to take up the entire chat. He lets out an airy breath that might as well be a laugh and stares at you through his shades. 

"Don't really know what to say." His ice cream already long finished, he sits back, his gangly features almost looking as if they'd grown out of the bench. "I don't want to piss you off again." 

"You do that anyway!" You exclaim and kick his leg with your heel. He lets out that laugh again. 

"You're making me nervous, Rox. What can I say?"

"Pshhh, yeah right. You just don't want to say anything first because you know I'm going to bitch you out." 

"I already told you you could." 

"I'm not gonna bitch you out about not realizing anything, I'm gonna bitch you out about bringing it up! Dick move, Dirky. Dirk move, Dicky." 

"All right, well how am I supposed to breech this next topic if I'm not allowed to tread over anything potentially decreed sensitive." 

"S'easy. If you 're thinking about saying something, don't. And then change the subject in your mind and we can talk about something else." 

"That's terrible advice." 

"Oooh! Like okay, I saw this great video the other day on my wall--" 

"Roxy." 

"--and I need to send you the link. I was going to last week but, you know, bunch of shenans goin' on." 

He sighs as he rubs the bridge of his nose, bringing his glasses up in the process. You watch him carefully, taking another big bite out of the strawberry side of your sundae, the fudge and the whipped cream slowly mixing with the melting ice cream to make soup. 

"I don't want to talk about it, Dirky. I really don't." You whisper as you take another bite, your eyes on your knees. You hear him take his glasses off and put them between you two on the bench. Shit, that just means you're in store for another lecture. 

Another long winded, convoluted, bullshit metaphor lecture that will somehow have a point and somehow cause you to cave and spill your previously tightly sealed guts. Miss zipperlips is meeting her downfall in 3... 2.... 

"I like you." 

Okay, what? 

You can feel your hands go numb and a buzzing in your ear, and you don't understand anything at all anymore. Because... what? 

What?

What?

"What?"

"I like you. In that way." He's looking right at you, and this is something you neither expected nor something you can handle, because this is going too far. You don't need this kind of sympathy from him, and especially when he's been pining over his own almost failed pursuits. 

Why on earth did he ever think that saying that would be okay or make anything better? 

Sometimes you really think he is a robot. 

Because... that can't really be true. 

"I don't want any pity, Dirk. That's really not cool at all."

"I never say anything I don't mean." 

Well, fuck, you have no idea what to say to that. 

So, uh, maybe you just won't? 

But, seriously, what do you say to that? Because the guy you've liked for almost three years has literally just told you that he likes you and you have no idea what to do because this is something you never thought would happen ever especially since "Wait, aren't you gay?" 

"Liking one guy doesn't make you gay, Rox." 

"Well, yeah, but, don't you still like that guy?" You bite the back of your thumb nail very lightly, so as not to disturb the polish. "That's what you told me!" 

He puts his elbows on his knees, and you can hear him sigh. "It's weird you not talkin' to me." There's a long pause as he calculates what to say in his head, not as if he's unsure (because Dirk's never unsure), but as if the words won't release themselves from a completely separate dialect that has built up in that huge melon of his. "I missed you a lot, Roxy, and I can't really explain anything that's goin' on in my own head, I just..." He never fidgets, he moves and takes long strides and changes how he sits and stands, but he doesn't fidget. You're entranced by how he leans back again where he sits, letting his words wash over you, unable to take in their weight just yet. 

"Just...?"

"Hang on, let me figure out how to say this without making a total ass of myself." You can tell he wants to put his shades back on, and he eyes them for a minute, but you snatch them away and put them on the other side of you. You look at his face again, deep into those orange eyes and wait. "When I first started liking Jake I didn't do a damn thing about it. I just let it fester like an infected wound and bitched to you about all my problems." 

You giggle, and he smiles at that (if only kind of). 

"I'm not going to do that this time. Not with you, Rox." He looks back at you, and sternly says it again. "I like you." As if you didn't hear him the first time. 

The ice cream is cold in your lap and in your hands and you feel the breath you take shake your entire body. "Just... Just like that?"

"You make it sound like I filled out a bubble in a goddamn survey. Do you want to check my qualifications? Sorry, I didn't bring you a copy of my resume, I didn't think that would be required." You punch him in the arm, and he doesn't even budge. "I do, though. I'm not trying to mess with you. I can't give you some grandiose explanation as to why, or some scientific formula to explain it, I just know that I do." 

You look at him for a long time, analyzing him, reading every line in his face, and you can feel that small bit of your guard wavering again. You can feel that same rush of hope you had those few weeks before prom, except this time it's less hesitant, and it's less tragic. Nothing screams at you from the back of your mind that you can't let yourself do this, or let yourself feel this because he's right here. And he's saying these precious words just to you. Only to you. 

"I... that's a horrible confession. Where's my parade? Or the confetti?!" Your face is red, your face is so red and you can feel it, and you're sure he can see it. 

And he smiles. 

He smiles at you. 

And it's not something you have to look for, or read between his features, because it's not something he's hiding. 

"It's the simple approach." 

And now you don't think you've said anything for about two minutes because there's a chemical war going on inside of you, and you can't control every single emotion that has been charged to the max crashing around inside you. 

Only it's not crashing. It's almost soothing. 

The unpleasant waves of discouragement and pain that followed you this entire past week and even beyond have found a way to flow in your body as natural as the blood that courses through you. You're humming with this change, and everything inside you feels like it's on fire. But at the same time you feel light and breezy like you're going to drift away, but there's still something weighing inside you because if you float away too far it can't be real. 

And you look at him, stare at him, and with as much eloquence as you can muster form words to give him. 

"Do you want the rest?" Eloquence at its best. You hand him your sundae soup and he quirks an eyebrow but nods. 

But his hands cover yours over the plastic bowl, and he refuses to look away from you, no matter how much you will him to stop in your mind because this is really overwhelming and too much too soon and you can't compute and what's going on. 

"You like me too, right?"

"Well duh!" 

"Good." 

Yeah, good. Fucking great. 

He's leaning in closer. 

\---------------------------------

There are a few things you can never remember about your first kiss with Dirk no matter how hard you try. 

First off, you both disagree as to what was your first kiss at all. While you stand your ground that that adorable little peck he gave you on the bench in front of your favorite ice cream place was your first kiss, he counters with the fact that "he missed" and tells you that, obviously, it was the following Sunday when he had left your place after you both had attempted to make some kind of fancy dinner for yourselves (you ended up ordering take-out despite your mother's offers to help). He had flicked your nose and leaned in and hugged you as he planted one right on your lips, and you had freaked out because it was so sudden and you accidentally scratched his arm with your nail. 

That's another reason why that one doesn't count. 

But he can shove off, because you're the lady here, and you think you get to decide these sorts of issues. 

Though, as much as you wish it didn't your brain clouds the memory a little more than you would like. 

For instance, you can remember he was wearing chap stick, and that his shirt was red, but you can't remember the pattern and you can't remember if he was wearing gloves or not. 

You can't remember which way his hair parted, or even how long the kiss had lasted, but you remember clear as day that he had barely caught your lips, and the right-most part of your mouth still tingles when you look back on the memory. 

It's okay, though, because you remember the most important things. 

Like the fact that when you went home that afternoon you remember looking in the mirror and seeing that your mascara hadn't smudged. 

You remember how his hands clenched just a little bit over your own, as if he was really trying to hold on to you, the little part that he had to cling on to. 

And you remember his eyes. 

That's what you love the most about a memory that slowly becomes buried under so many others as the days pass. 

You remember how he pulled back (after a certain unknown amount of time) and looked at you. Just looked at you. 

Like he was shocked, or he was surprised. 

And you couldn't really blame him, because you're sure that your own expression mirrored his. 

And then you remember how he smiled. 

And how you did too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, I've gotten so many nice comments and I can hardly handle it skdfjhskdf!!! Thank you all so much, this is my first HS fanfiction, so it really does mean a lot! I hope you all enjoyed this last chapter! And thank you for reading again!


End file.
